


Rescued

by hayvocado



Series: Me & the Boys [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Implied Rape/Non-con, My summary is shit i'm sorry, Other, Reader Insert, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:31:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayvocado/pseuds/hayvocado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader is in an abusive relationship, and one day, she's had enough, and decides to leave. While hitchhiking, she's picked up by two brothers, and they may just be her saviors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leaving

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: abuse. reader discretion is advised.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader has finally had enough of her abusive boyfriend.

"Baby, I'm home!"

You call out into your apartment and set your keys down in the tray settled atop the small table near the door. Turning into the hallway leading to the kitchen, you hang up your bag and begin to walk towards the refrigerator. 

"Oooh she's home." Mikey, your boyfriend of four years, drawls, leaning against the doorway. His smile was crooked and sloppy, and his breath smelt of whiskey. You could practically hear his liver crying. 

It's definitely not the first time you've come home to Mike being drunk. Ever since he lost his job, three fucking years ago, he's been living in the bottom of a liquor bottle. He used to always be unconscious upon your arrival, sprawled across the sofa and cuddling the empty bottle of booze. These last couple of years, however, it seems he's been waiting for you, anticipating your arrival just so he can antagonize you. 

He'll get handsy with you, and usually you'll let him fuck you, just so he won't get angry, because when he gets angry it's terrifying. Hands will fly and names will be called, and you're frequently on the receiving end of both occurrences. As of late he's been nicer and he hasn't had a major outburst in a few weeks. 

"Where've you been, sweetness?" He steps closer and presses his chest against your back, gripping your hips and nibbling on your neck. The question sounds nonchalant, but there's something there, low in his throat, that struck a nerve in your chest. Was he angry this time?

"Had to work late," you begin, attempting to squirm out of his grip, to no avail. His fingers dig into your hips, nearing painfully. "Shannon had to run home early and I promised to cover for her." Again you try to move, but his strong hands hold you in place. "Mikey, let go. I'm not in the mood." 

He ignores your comment, and begins to grind his crotch against your rear, and once again you try to wriggle away. "Seriously, babe. I don't want to." You begin trying to remove his ever tightening hands from your hips, but he just swats yours away. 

"You know you love it. Always such a slut for my cock, huh?" He punctuates the end of his slurred sentence with another bump of his growing bulge gainst your ass, and you sigh heavily. 

"Michael, I'm being for real right now. Let me go." He ignores you yet again, instead slipping his hand from your hip down to the front of your jeans, sliding his fingers beneath the waistline. 

No. You do not want this. 

"Michael Ethan Rowes, let me go right now or so help me god-"

"Oh, baby, God can't help you now," he sucks at the side of your neck and you whimper, not in pleasure, but in fear. "I'm the only one here. And I want something. I'm gonna get it one way or another." His hand slips back out of your pants, now going to shove your jeans down past your butt. Once your rear is revealed to the cold air, he pushes you over, so you're bent across the top of the kitchen counter. 

After he has your underwear and pants out of the way, you can hear him unbuckling his belt and you try to kick at him, but he just uses one of his feet to kick both of yours further apart. 

"Ah ah ah, slut. Me time." His words slur and blend. The way he slides his hand across the base of your spine in what would normally be a soothing gesture makes you heave a dry sob. This could not be happening. He said that he would stop. 

He begins pressing himself to your entrance, but before he can do anything, you jerk backwards, hitting the top of your head against his mouth, hopefully chipping a tooth or two. Busted lip? Even better. You shimmy your pants back over your hips and step away from him. 

His hand flies over his mouth, and you can see blood smearing its way between his fingertips. "You bitch!" He lunges at you, but you move quickly out of his way, and grab for the phone. 

"Mike, stay the fuck back." You raise the phone, threatening him. "I'll call-"

The sound of his boisterous laughter cuts you off. "You're gonna call someone?" He throws his head back and let's out another long laugh. "I mean, who? Everyone who cares about you is either dead, or in this room! Ha!" 

Your eyes begin to tear slightly as you throw the phone down on the counter and turn away from him. "You're such a fucking asshole, Mike." 

"Oh no you don't, girlie." He grabs roughly at your upper arm, and you can tell that there will be bruises. Trying to wrench your arm away, you cry out as something in your shoulder pops. Mike raises a hand to slap you, and you flinch back. 

The sound of the skin on skin contact is the first thing you register, but then the fiery burn on your cheek makes itself known. You cry out and hunch over, tears now flowing freely down your face. 

"Aw, is the little bitch crying? Look at me. Hey!" He yanks your arm again so you're standing straight and he uses his other hand to cup your cheek. You immediately relax into the touch. It isn't so much for comfort as it is for contact. 

He rubs his thumb across your cheekbone to soothe the reddened skin on your face. He leans in and leaves a gentle kiss right where the outline of his palm lie. "You know I love you, right? I'm the only one who could love you this much." He lays another delicate kiss on the red hand print and pulls away. 

He looks into your eyes and the hand on your cheek slides down to rest right above your neck. A shudder works its way up your spine and you gasp quietly. His hand works its way behind your jaw, squeezing painfully, and your ears start to ring. He leans in so much closer, and you can feel the wave of his booze breath washing over your face. 

Once again you try to escape his grip, but he sighs heavily and then throws your whole body to the ground. You hit your head on the back of a chair and just barely catch yourself before your face makes contact with the hardwood flooring. 

Mike moves to stand over you, heavy construction boots clomping uncomfortably close to your face. "I wish you would just fucking behave, Y/N. I don't like hurting you, I don't." He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. "But you just can't. Fucking. Behave." 

He crouches down and grabs a handful of your hair, yanking your face up next to his. A pathetic whimper bubbles out of your throat, and your hands scrabble for purchase on the smooth floor. 

"You're mine, Y/N. All mine." He unceremoniously releases your hair, and your face immediately drops back to the cold wood with a loud thudding noise. 

He stands up straight again, and steps away. You don't turn your face to find him, knowing he was still there. There's a quiet grunt, and a moment later, white hot pain blooms across your ribs. 

He does it again, and again, and again, blow after blow. You stop counting after seventeen. When he finally stops, you turn your face to him. He's sweaty and his hair is matted across his forehead and neck. 

"Hope you learned your lesson, bitch." He spits at you, turns, and retreats back into your shared bedroom. 

After what feels like hours, you hear his loud snores, and slowly, you begin to drag yourself up. It takes several tries and a few minutes of silent screaming until you're finally walking--more accurately, staggering--towards the door. 

You grab your purse from the hook and your keys to the house from the tray, and you're out the door, blood and tears blurring your vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, Mike is a dick. Yes, yes, he does get payback. Yes, yes, it is a bitch. 
> 
> So the boys don't come in until the next chapter, so yeah, sorry if you got high hopes for this part, but stick around!!
> 
> Thanks for reading, love you bunches!


	2. Hitching a Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader leaves her home with Mike, and whilst hitchhiking, she gets picked up by a two brothers who may just make her day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um um oh my god thank you for all of the kudos and comments on my last chapter holy fuck thank youu!!!
> 
> okay so the boys are in this chapter and yes shit will get real in the chapter following this one so stick around.

You've been walking--okay, more like limping--for hours through a fucking thunderstorm. The rain slants at you, tiny, shard-like droplets attacking your face and neck, the rest of your body bundled up in your overcoat. _What a fucking horror movie stereotype. Just a girl, walking all alone in the dark. Nothing cliché over here._

You try to keep your head down as much as possible, only wearing a flimsy coat without a hood. The lights lining the quiet street are glowing a soft, misty tangerine.

You hear the rough rumbling of a car coming up behind you, and you chance a quick look, not seeing much more than distorted headlights. Jabbing out your hand, thumb raised, you slow your pace. The car slows as well and begins pulling towards you. Once at a full stop, you can see that it's a sleek black Impala. _'67? '68 maybe?_

The passenger side window rolls down, and you hunch over slightly, trying to both make eye contact with the person inside and block yourself from any further abuse from the heavy rain.

A sweet face is revealed by the retreating glass, a worried crease between his brows. His hazel eyes show nothing but concern and curiosity. He has a polite smile on his mouth, and you can't help but briefly fawn over his dimples.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

You huff a somewhat bitter laugh, and shrug with a smile. "Anything but, though I was wondering if maybe I could hitch a ride? It's kind of, y'know, wet out here." Another smile from you pulls a quiet chuckle from the man.

"Uh, yeah, sure." The locks to the doors click open, and you open the back door, shedding your coat to avoid soaking the smooth leather interior. "I'm Sam, by the way." He's twists in his seat to half-face you, and his right arm is extended to you. You take it and shake.

"I'm Dean." The man at the wheel finally catches your attention. He has a sharp jawline, and admittedly pouty lips, which are currently quirked into a guarded half smile. Concerned green eyes gaze at you from the driver's seat. He extends his hand as well, and you give a firm shake.

"I'm Y/N. Thank you, really." You shiver slightly, and Sam leans forward to turn up the heat. You heave a grateful sigh and rest your head against the back of the seat. The Impala begins pulling back onto the road, the soft rumble coming again from the floorboards.

"So where are you headed to?" Dean asks.

Your eyes widen and you sit back up straight. You had no idea where you were headed to. Just...

"Away." At that you chuckle, thinking of how stupid that sounded. "That was vague, sorry. I just... Well where are you headed? Maybe there'll be a motel or something nearby."

"Well we're staying with a friend in town, but I think that there's a motel somewhere around here." Sam's gentle voice eases you a bit, but you don't miss the slight tension in his words. A few minutes go by in silence before you feel someone's eyes on you.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, you catch Dean's suspicious gaze already watching you. "What are you trying to get 'away' from anyways?" Sam tosses Dean a warning glare, though you could tell he wanted to know the answer as well.

"Um, wow." You chuckle nervously. "Loaded question. Just a lot right now. I don't really want to drop my burdens on a couple of strangers, no offense." If they caught the hitch to your voice when you spoke, they were kind enough not to address it.

Sam turns his head to face you, eyes asking a silent question: _Are you alright?_  Before you can nod your head in a lie, his eyes widen and you return his blatant stare with a confused one. He was staring at your cheek. _Oh shit, your cheek._

"Ah, yeah, just an accident. No biggie." You lie between your teeth, and it tastes bitter and vile.

You look anywhere but at Sam, and Dean's eyes catch yours again in the mirror. "Accident." He practically spits the word, but says no more. Sam finally turns back around in his seat, even more tense than before.

You see a small gas station up ahead, and you make a quick decision. "You know what, just drop me at the gas station. I'll grab a snack and call a cab. You've done enough already." With a weak smile, you gesture out the window to the small building.

Dean huffs a heavy sigh, and pulls over at the gas station lot, not moving to unlock the doors. He turns nearly fully around in his seat, and makes direct eye contact with you.

"Do you need help?"

Though you knew exactly what he was talking about, and you knew that he knew the real answer, you shook your head in the negative. At that his eyes narrow further and you throw him an all-too-cheery smile that definitely doesn't reach your eyes.

"No, I'm totally fine. But thank you for the ride." You move to get out of the car, a hand resting on the handle, but Sam's hand falls over your own, stopping you.

You struggle to keep your stinging eyes glued to your hand. He quickly rubs his thumb across your knuckles, and you take in a shaky breath before finally looking at him.

"I'll survive, seriously. Nothing I can't handle on my own." You shrug, and again reach for the handle, mentally screaming at Sam to leave good enough alone.

"What are you gonna do? Where are you gonna go?"

You may have only known them for half an hour, but they knew more than most of your friends knew about you. _Who are you kidding? You don't have any friends. He'd never let you._

You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek, trying desperately not to start crying right then and there.

"I'm gonna catch a bus and probably go right back to where I was because I left all of my shit and because I'm a needy bitch." Your eyes sting, and you're slightly shocked at yourself for voicing all of that aloud. Clenching your jaw, you look back out the window, at the gas station, and sigh shakily.

You can feel the men exchanging looks, and, judging by how long they silently communicate, you can tell that they were best friends, more likely brothers.

"Anyways, thanks again. Really." The genuinity previously painting your words fades as your irritation grew. You move to get out once again, praying that Dean'll unlock the god damn door, but when he doesn't, and you've tugged on the handle a few pointless times, you sigh. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and sit back. "Just don't call the cops. I don't need that again."

You feel them both turn to look at you. "Again?" _Shit._ "How long has this been going on?"

Pulling your hands away from your wet eyes, you glare at Dean, not purposefully hostile, but harsh enough for him to get that you don't want to answer the question. He stares back unflinchingly and you finally breathe deeply and turn your gaze to your hands.

"Three years," you murmur just barely loud enough for them to hear.

"Ah, hell." Dean hits his head gently against the headrest.

"It's really not that big of a deal. I've dealt with it this long, I can-"

"You can what?" Sam cuts you off. "Deal with it for the rest of your life? That's not how it's supposed to be, Y/N." You sigh and slam a fist down against your thigh.

"Listen, you guys don't know me, and I don't know you. Your good samaritan shit is great and all, but I really don't need it. If I did, I would've gotten help by now."

Your lips buzz with that familiar feeling. Whenever you spoke a lie that you believed, you began to feel sick. It wasn't the truth. You knew that, but you still wanted to hold onto it.

"Fine, then. We'll drop you back at your place." Dean takes the car out of park and begins moving towards the main road. "What's your address?"

You chuckle bitterly, and mockingly reply "I don't feel comfortable disclosing that information." Dean yanks a small wallet out of his shirt pocket, and flings it into the backseat at you. You roll your eyes and open it. When you find an FBI badge staring right back at you, your sarcastic remark dies on your lips and your eyes widen in disbelief.

" _Fuck_."

"Now, I'm about three seconds away from making this an official domestic abuse investigation, in which case my partner and I won't be the only ones questioning you about this stuff. I don't like local law enforcement, and I'm guessing neither does your little  _boyfriend_." You flinch slightly at how harsh his tone has become.

"So I suggest you start talking, sweetheart."

The simple, two-syllabled term or endearment has never sounded so venomous.

You have to take a deep breath and look out the window once more. You can feel Dean's eyes on you in the mirror. You quickly pop your knuckles out of nervous habit, and then your neck. Without taking your eyes away from the trees rushing by the window, you speak.

"It's the complex on Rogers Street, Apartment 417." He nods eagerly, seemingly pleased with your compliance. "And don't fucking call me ' _sweetheart_ '."

Sam smirks at his partner as Dean glares right back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of wrote dean as kind of seeming like a dick but it's because he's a) suspicious of everyone b) trying to get a read on this sad beaten girl soaking Baby's interior and c) going into Protector Mode™ so if he seems a little awful, it's bc of him being such a good person, so pardon him. 
> 
> please leave more comments and kudos bc i literally almost cried when i saw how much love i got last chapter thank you all!!
> 
> love you bunches and thanks for reading <3


	3. Back Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam drag Reader back home to hopefully just drop her off and leave... well it looks like you have no such luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay so i'm still freaking out bc you guys are so great and you give such great feedback and agh!!! i love you so much!!!

When the Impala reaches your apartment, you can feel fear beginning to drill its way from your gut into your chest. You can see that the kitchen light is on again, meaning that Mike woke up since you left. You pray that he's gone back to sleep.

A shadow moves past the window and you can feel bile beginning to rise in the back of your throat. Your chest tightens and you begin to breathe heavily, chest heaving.

"Shit, shit, _shit_." You mutter to yourself, undoing your seatbelt and grabbing up your purse. When the boys begin to undo their belts as well, you freeze, eyes going wide. "You guys aren't seriously coming with?" When they open their doors and start to get out without answering you, real panic finally sets in.

They exit the car before you can even get your door open. You rush out after them, heart beating out of your chest. Once out of the vehicle, you carry yourself after them on your significantly shorter legs. You move around to the front of them and look to Sam, obviously the more sensible person here. You lay a hand on his chest and look back and forth between the two.

"You can't go up there. He'll kill you." You know it's a total lie the second you say it. Mike is strong, yeah, but compared to these two lumberjacks, he might as well be a twelve year old boy. They share a look of amusement and then look back to you. "Okay, maybe not _you_ , but he'll kill _me_ , for sure." You--barely--mean it as a joke, but the concern and anger you see in their eyes underlines your mistake pretty clearly.

"No one's killing anyone. Not yet, at least." Dean brushes past you and heads towards the elevator. Sam begins to move as well but you grab his arm and look up that entire foot to meet his eyes.

"Please." You whisper weakly.

With little pause, he begins moving again and you let out a small whine. You follow after them, and you all stand shoulder to shoulder in the small elevator.

The air is so thick with tension not even a chainsaw could cut it. Your heart beats in your toes and in your lips and the incessant thumping reverberates into your ears. _Can they not hear that?_

Your hands are shaking and your foot is bouncing and you can't stop the dread that you feel tugging at your lungs. This is going to end badly, most likely for you.

When you finally reach your door, you can tell that the boys won't let you just quietly slip inside with a goodbye and a back pat. Their aggressive stances and hard glares give you enough reassurance of that.

Your shaky hand moves your keys towards the lock, and the metal jingles loudly in the still hallway. You miss the keyhole a few times, and you have to wheeze a few frustrated breaths to steady yourself. You try two more times before you throw your keys down in defeat and spin towards the boys.

"Okay seriously, truly, please do not do this." Your hands are up, palms out, and you're close to tears again. The waver in your voice is obvious but you try to hide it nonetheless. Sam looks at you apologetically while Dean just looks at your dirty front door, his jaw set determinedly.

The sound of the turning lock causes your spine to stiffen, and you turn, eyes wide. You come face to face with a bed-headed Mike, arms stretching as he yawns. His big brown eyes meet yours and he has a boyish grin on his face. If your cheek wasn't still throbbing in the shape of his hand, a flurry of butterflies would be fluttering through your belly.

"I thought I heard voices. Where were you at?" He leans against the door frame, not even acknowledging the two giant men behind you. He settles his gaze on you, a small warning flashing in his eyes. _Don't say shit._

"Had to go for a walk." You attempt to shrug nonchalantly, but it comes out as more of a jerky twitch.

"And who'd ya bring home with you?" He finally allows his eyes to travel past you, first to Sam, and then to Dean. He takes in their hostile glares and tense shoulders. You look back at them, fear flooding through your veins again.

"Um, they're, uh, my uh-"

"Some friends from school." Sam finishes for you, and you mentally thank him seven times over. "I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"Huh. I didn't know my little Y/N made any friends in school." He steps forward and roughly throws his arm around your shoulders forcing you to turn back towards the boys. His hand settles on your collarbone and his fingers begin to trace along the side of your neck. He delivers a sharp pinch to the soft skin there, and it takes everything in you to suppress your yelp, your body instead settling for a jolting flinch. You recover quickly and look to the boys, only to see that they've both noticed.

"Yeah," Dean's rough voice barks out. His eyes are focused on Mike's hand resting on your neck. "We used to get into all kinds of trouble." The words by themselves hold a nostalgic meaning, but his voice is nothing if not a threat.

Mike raises a brow at the shorter brother, clearly disapproving of his sharp tone.

"Well, thanks for walking her home." He pinches your bruising face roughly in a fake display of affection. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip to keep from crying out. Out of your peripheral vision, you can see Sam begin to step forward but Dean's hand on his arm holds him back. "The little lady can get herself into all kinds of... _tricky_  situations."

Sam crosses his arms and looks at your tense stance beneath your boyfriend's arm. "We've seen." Your eyes widen at his words and you look up at him just to find him staring at you already. You shake your head so minutely that you hope he can actually see it. His face softens slightly at that.

Mike watches the whole exchange and his arm immediately tightens around you, jerking you closer to his body. He throws a fake smile towards the boys and waves cheerily. "Well I guess it's time for you to get going. It's pretty late." He yawns again--this time fake--and squeezes your shoulders again. "Nice meeting you."

He begins to turn you both around, hand already on the doorknob, when Dean steps forward and lays a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Actually," he turns Mike around forcefully and you sidestep towards Sam to avoid getting jostled as well. "We wanted to stay and chat for a bit."

He uses his right hand to reach into his shirt pocket again, grabbing his badge and flipping it open for Mike to see. Your boyfriend, for once in his life, has nothing to say. His jaw just drops and his eyes widen. You step closer to Sam instinctively and shrink back.

Mike's head whips towards you and he is _pissed._  "You called the fucking Feds on me?" He tries to move towards you, but Dean's grip on his shoulder holds him in place. "You little fucking bitch!" Again, he struggles against Dean's hold, but the larger man just shoves him back into the door, his hand now resting on Mike's chest.

"Let's try that again, Booze Breath." He shoves the heel of his hand further into Mike's chest and leans in close. "You been hittin' her?" The words came out as a growl.

"What the hell are you talking about? Sh-she's a fucking klutz, she practically beats herself up!" Mike sputters out, voice rising an octave in panic.

You huff bitterly and swipe at the tears gathering under your eyes. "Yeah, fuckin' okay, Mike." He tries to lunge at you again but Dean's big hand prevents him from getting more than a few inches off of the door. Even though you are completely aware of Dean’s superior strength, you still jump back, moving another step towards Sam, who protectively wraps an arm over your shoulders. You anxiously cross your arms over your chest and shift your gaze to the ground

"You little cunt. Fucking burn in hell." He spits at you.

"Been burning." You mutter quietly.

He snarls and smiles nastily. “Bitch gets tough when she's got guard dogs, huh?” Dean lifts his hand from Mike's chest to the top of his head, grabbing his messy black hair in a fist and slamming his skull back against the door.

Dean then grabs Mike by his collar and yanks him to the side, out of the doorway. "Go ahead in and pack a bag, Y/N." At that you snap to attention. You hadn't thought this through very well, and now you saw the flaw in your plan: you had nothing without Mike. What didn’t have his name on it, he had confiscated it from you long ago. He must realize that at the same time you do, because he chuckles menacingly.

"Aw, what's wrong sweetness? Don't you have a backup plan?" You flinch back a step and his mouth twists into an ugly smile. "Oh no, the princess didn't have one? Guess she's stuck with the big bad wolf."

Your face screws up in amusement and confusion. Both of the boys pause, seeing your reaction, trying to gauge your next course of action. You shake your head and laugh quietly, moving to open the door. A wave of bravery washes over you, and you pause before turning the knob, and glance back at your abuser.

"Baby, I dunno what fairy tales you've been reading, but in mine, the princess _always_  gets her way in the end." You smile at him sweetly, open up the door to the apartment, and walk in quickly, hands shaking from that fucking adrenaline rush! _I just told Mike off, hell yeah!_

(What you don’t get to see is the expressions of all three men. Dean looks after you with a prideful grin and a muttered “there she is”. Sam’s eyes are wide in surprise and his jaw is dropped in awe. Mike, however, looks like a fish, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, and eyes bugging out of his head stupidly.)

Sam recovers quickly and follows you in, a hand at the small of your back. You don't have to turn around to know that Dean is yanking Mike inside as well. His small yelps and Dean's grunts of exertion make your heavy breathing seem quieter.

You speed walk past the mess of broken furniture in your living room--at which you hear Sam gasp--and head into your bedroom, grabbing a duffel bag from beneath the bed. You begin opening drawers and shoving handfuls of clothing in, trying as hard as possible to not let any tears slip down your face.

Soft footsteps stop outside the bedroom door, and you risk a glance, finding the youngest Winchester leaning against the doorframe, silently inspecting the shared room.

There are half a dozen you-sized dents in the walls, and at least twice as many impressions shaped like Mike's fists and feet. Sam shakes his head slowly, sympathy etched into his eyes.

"Three years?"

You shrug nonchalantly and swipe a hand under your nose. You grab another hoodie, that at some point had belonged to Mike. Holding it up, you frown at the Lions logo on the front of it, and toss it back into the drawer. At Sam's quizzical look, you shrug once more.

"Never really was a fan of Detroit."

Grabbing your bag, you duck past Sam and head back out to the living room where Dean still has Mike pinned against a wall. You move to stand just left of Dean, crossing your arms and frowning at your boyf- _ex_ boyfriend.

"Where're my cards, Mike?"

He tips his head to the side condescendingly and scoffs.

"You really think I'd tell your sorry ass?" Another huff from him and he turns his head away from you. You sigh, and look around the small room, ready to tear all of his stuff apart. You need your fucking credit cards.

Moving towards the entertainment center, you look to Mike, an eyebrow raised, and at his stoic expression, you move on, towards his recliner. You glance back up at him as you reach into the remote control pocket, and feel around for his wallet. His eyes begin to widen and the corner of your mouth twitches up into a smirk as you latch onto his wallet.

Pulling it out, you flick through the compartments and pull out four of the six Visas inside. You slide the cards into your bra, toss the wallet back onto his chair, and go into the kitchen. Fetching three beers from the fridge, you skillfully use the edge of the counter to pop off all three caps at once. You walk back over to the--gawking--brothers and hand both of them a beer.

You glance towards Mike and tilt the mouth of your beer bottle towards him. 

"Cheers, Baby boy."

All three men look fearful and cautious. They’re no doubt trying to take stock of your mental state at the moment. You’re basically running away from home, and you just handed out brewskis like you were getting ready to watch the game. Maybe you’re a little wonky at the moment. _I’ll just blame it on my head wound._

Dean uses his forearm to trap Mike by his throat as he takes the proffered drink with a gracious nod. Sam utters a small "thank you" and begins sipping the cold beverage. They both have their wide, wary eyes focused on you, expecting you to snap at any moment. You lean your back against the counter and sigh heavily.

You take a long pull from your drink and set the glass bottle onto the counter. You waste a minute or two staring at a drop of condensation slipping down the glass and onto your counter. Once it hits the cool surface, you pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut.

Opening them, you inhale deeply and snatch up the bottle, quickly chugging the rest of your beer. You can feel the heavy weight of the brothers' shocked stares on you. You set down your now empty bottle, and turn towards the rest of the room, rubbing your hands together and clapping them together once.

"Okay boys, what now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i need a little help with suggestions for the chapter after this...
> 
> i have something already written but it's basically an epilogue and it leaves so much room for another fic with the Reader having more stuff going on with the boys and i want to know if you guys would be interested in me continuing this as a series? i'm not sure! comment suggestions please!!
> 
> love you guys and thank you for reading!!


	4. Where To?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An hour or so of troublemaking later, and you and the boys finally get a chance to discuss some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is hella short and basically an epilogue for this part (book?)
> 
> yea so sorry for not updating sooner? yikes. 
> 
> anyways thank you all for reading this and giving me kudos and comments and feedback and suggestions i just agghh you're all so great. 
> 
> so i've decided to continue this as a series, and thanks to your suggestions, i should (fingers crossed) have a chapter up within the next week or so. 
> 
> thank you all so much i'm in love with every last one of you <3

You run down the few flights of stairs to the first floor, laughing borderline hysterically. The boys follow, clomping down, trying to cover up their laughter. To anyone that doesn’t know the situation, you all probably look like a group of teenagers, running away from your latest prank.

Finally pushing through the main double doors and rushing outside you take a deep breath of the chilly post-rain air. You turn towards the doors and look to see the brothers jostling their wide frames through the entryway, faces red with merriment.

You move to lean against the handicap sign before the parking lot, resting your head against the freezing cold metal. You cross your arms over your chest and shiver. Breathing in deeply, inhaling the metallic smell of post-rain earth, you smile, and then burst into laughter again, looking back to your new friends.

“Oh my fuck, that was great!”

“Yeah, Dean, I’m pretty sure he peed himself a little.” Sam gasps out between his huffs of fading laughter. Dean smirks and blows at his bloody knuckles, like puffing smoke off of a gun. A quick laugh jumps from your chest again, and you look to the stars, lolling your head to rest back against the sign behind you.

Sam and Dean lean against the brick walls to the side of the main doors, and they both smile at you. Sighing again, you push off, walking towards the brothers. You stand in front of them and look down at your shoes, then bring your eyes up to meet theirs.

“Thank you, seriously.”

Dean smirks and bumps Sam’s shoulder with his own. “Look, Sammy. Our ‘good samaritan shit’ is pretty cool, after all.” Sam’s eyes crinkle and shine as he laughs. You roll your eyes and rock on your heels.

“Shut up, dork. I’m trying to be serious, here.” Dean holds his hands up in surrender.

You scrutinize him for a few moments, taking in his messy hair and bright eyes, and the new shiner ripening beneath one of them. He has a split lip, as well, and his brow looks like it’s already beginning to scab. You shift your gaze to Sam, taking in his even messier hair, his cut cheekbone, and his swelling nose.

Bringing your knuckles to your bruising cheek, you look towards your apartment window, jaw clenching angrily.

“You guys didn’t have to do that. You got all beat up because of me.” Sam is already shaking his head before you can finish, stepping forward to rest a big hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N. Seriously,” You shrug and glance back up to the window.

“Hey, Y/N?” Dean pipes up from behind Sam. You redirect your gaze to the shorter man. “Where are you gonna go from here?” Your eyes drop back to your feet and you shrug, kicking at your overstuffed duffel.

“Honestly? I have no clue. My job is shitty, and everything transferred to his accounts. This is my home. My family's nonexistent.” You swipe a hand under your nose and look off towards the road. "Guess it's a chance to start fresh, huh?"

The brothers look at each other, engaging in yet another silent conversation. You sigh softly, feeling incredibly left out. When they both look back towards you, smiling giddily, you raise your eyebrow expectantly.

“Care to share with the rest of the class?”

“Maybe we can help you out a bit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [[okay but do me a huge favor and read one of my other works? one's loki/natasha and i've only gotten a comment or two on it. i would love your input too. i also have a songfic series based on Badlands (Halsey) that's dean/reader. i would love you forever if you would look at those too!!! ok im done with my shitty self promo love y'all!!]]


	5. Author's Note: I Am So Sorry

Oh my god oh my god. Okay so I had started writing something and then my life went haywire and I ended up in a fucking hospital and I never got around to updating oh my god guys I'm so sorry. I cross my heart hope to die stick a needle in my eye that I will have the next part of the series started and uploaded before Monday. If I don't I give you my consent to come to my house armed with pitchforks and torches. I'm the shittiest author oh my god. I haven't lost hope for this story I just literally have not had access to things that allowed me to write/post my stuff. Guys I'm so sorry I'm the literal worst. No more excuses though. I will have a chapter up in the next 24 hours, swear on my life. 

I love you all so much and your reads, kudos, and comments mean the world to me and I thank all of you that have stuck around and put up with my bullshit. Thank you guys so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, yes, Mike is a dick. Yes, yes, he does get payback. Yes, yes, it is a bitch. 
> 
> So the boys don't come in until the next chapter, so yeah, sorry if you got high hopes for this part, but stick around!!
> 
> Thanks for reading, love you bunches!


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